Sun

Double-layered socks and hats, pants, and triple-layered shirts, jackets, and gloves with a scarf (the most important thing) were enough to keep someone warm this summery winter morning as I rode toward the gold sunrise.
I reflected that the world was not always illuminated with the same color, and that as a result, colors themselves are a somewhat subjective thing.
Simultaneously as I smelled a strong scent of oil, I heard the haunted creak of a small oil rig I always pass on my way to work, as the arm-thing went up.

At work, the bowls of candy all over the place and the packages of snacks, candy, and bottled drinks in the break room looked to my mind like neatly packaged refuse in a barren place where everyone else seemed satisfied. Although I like sympathizing with people over the phone (who'd'a thunk), it's really exhausting and I've gotten myself into trouble at the theater by being so cranky.

I was awarded with a $20 Dominoes gift card for perfect attendance. You should have seen me waving my arms in the air so happily down the hill toward home that night, chanting,
"Pizza, pizza..."
Then I thought, "I need to practice my singing." So I sang,
"Pizza, pizza..."
That night I tried to keep my eyes open at the theater, going over the same old parts that were getting more and more familiar, trying on new (or improved) costumes and laughing and skulking in the corner with a "book" between scenes I was in. These books can be anything from comics, theology, or (the very best) a notebook with half-blank pages and a pen that hovers over the paper or scribbles to fast to see.

In the mornings, I ride toward the sun when it is gold. When it is gold again, I ride toward it, and somehow I end up going back the way I came from. (#WiseSayingsFromTheConstructionSages)

This day was so warm, I knew I'd regret bringing my coat. In late January, it was as warm as a chilly summer's day, though tomorrow it could be ten below (if the blue-sky weather keeps up tonight).